Editor’s note: This is the second article in a continuing series tracking families throughout Lake County and the state. Along with our publishing partners at EdSource, we’ll find out what’s working, what’s not and how students and their families feel about the state of our K-12 public education system as it adapts to these tumultuous times.
LAKEPORT — The decision to send her son Garrett, 6, to school was an easy one, said Laura Barnes.
A Lake County teacher of lower grades, Barnes feels strongly that, “Interacting face to face with peers and teachers is irreplaceable and is crucial to social-emotional development as well as the mental health of children (and adults too for that matter).”
‘Zoom school’ did not go well for her son last spring. “Normally a stellar student,” she said, “Garrett was disengaged by the virtual meeting and distracted by other things happening in our home (his 4-and-a-half-year-old little sister, pets, etc). It was not an optimal learning experience. And that’s nothing against his teacher or the school.”
According to Barnes, once the shelter-in-place order went into effect in March, her son went from loving school to acting disinterested in a matter of weeks. “I hate it,” he said while at the computer, adding that he wanted to go play a new game instead.
“We (Barnes and her husband) wanted our son to get back to loving it. We discussed his options with him before school started: continuing at his previous school online, or going to the school where I teach, in person. He was overwhelmingly in favor of in-person school.”
“Our kids are aware of the virus. They understand that it is very contagious and that it can make people sick and some even die. They also know that the chances of them (or us as their parents) getting seriously ill or dying from it are negligible,” said Barnes adding that two school-age children in California have died from COVID.
“We understand that children can carry the virus home and then infect older or health-compromised family members. If we were health-compromised, or had elderly people living with us, we might feel differently. But when we weighed minimal risk of our kids getting infected against the guaranteed risk of their education, mental health and overall well being suffering, the decision was easy. My husband and I both feel strongly that our children, the future of our county and our country, need to be our priority. Their well-being takes precedence.”
“The children don’t understand everything about the virus, but what they do know is that life as they knew it is different, and much less fulfilling, than it used to be. Multiple times a week, they will let out a depressed sigh and say, ‘When will the virus be over?’ Their reality is: no more soccer games. No more gymnastics. No more Sunday school. No more birthday parties. No more playgrounds, trips to visit grandpa, hugs from their friends. These are the things that matter to kids. The fact that we were able to at least provide them with school, and some connection to other children, was an easy decision for us.”
“Garrett does wear a mask at school, as do all students and staff members. They’re allowed to take them off while eating and while outside at PE and recess, as long as the activity they are doing allows them to be far enough away from each other. At first it was tough to get used to, but after a week or so, masking just became part of the regular routine.” Barnes laughed when she said, “His favorite mask is the shark mouth.”
Barnes said that as a teacher, she is far more afraid of the effect distance learning is having on the education of students than she is of catching the virus. “It isn’t really teaching. At least it doesn’t feel like it. It’s tech support, data entry and secretary,” she said.
“My husband and I are both distance learning teachers this year. With a few exceptions, this is not the best educational model for kids as far as we’re concerned. A small handful are thriving with distance learning, but most students, especially Lake County’s population of students, need in-person direct instruction,” she said adding that students need one-on-one help that isn’t through a screen, including strategic interventions, small group work, and a community of learners. “They need human connection, an environment free of distractions where everyone is focused on the same task, and they need the resources an in-person education is more equipped to provide.”
Barnes said that many students need a safe place to be. “The devastating truth is; for a large number of Lake County students, school is the safest, most loving environment they will be in all day. Distance learning strips them of that safe space. Without teachers and staff looking out for them and making Child Protective Services reports, who knows what some of them may be enduring.”
Due to the number of siblings sharing devices, teachers have to stagger live meetings so they don’t conflict with other teachers. “I get 40 minutes ‘live’ daily with each grade level. This pales in comparison to the number of minutes they would have with a teacher and classmates under normal circumstances. This is far from the ‘robust distance education’ Gov. Newsom called for. It’s the Cliffs Notes version of an education, at best,” she said.
Barnes passionately addressed other challenges; student engagement, assessments and accurate grading, tech problems, screen time, among others.
According to Barnes, Upper Lake Unified and Lucerne Elementary are the only two public schools in the county offering both in-person and distance learning. Families may choose between between the two options.
Brock Falkenberg, Superintendent of Schools at Lake County Office of Education, said in a distance call, “Some families and children can thrive with independent study. The at-home setting is an opportunity to thrive, however research shows that the classroom-based setting is the optimum setting.”
“I want to stress,” he said, “that our teachers are working diligently, doing their best to assure their students are meeting educational expectations.”
Will the band play together again?
REDDING— Alexandra Mitchell, 17, has high hopes for her senior year at Shasta High School in Redding. She is president of the band and is going to work at the local hospital as part of the school’s medical occupation program. Before the coronavirus curtailed social gatherings, she had been looking forward to all the events leading up to graduation.
Her senior year, so far, is a lot different from what she expected. Mitchell and half of her schoolmates arrived at school Aug. 12 as Group B, made up of students with last names that started with letters between L and Z. Each group attends school two days a week and works from home for three. Some of her best friends are in Group A.
Mitchell starts her day by pulling on a mask and following arrows, designed to keep hallway traffic moving in one direction, to her classrooms. She stands on a red dot in the hall with other socially distanced girls waiting to go into the bathroom and eats lunch at a table with a sign limiting the number of students who can sit down. In band class, 15 of the 30 members of the group discuss music history instead of playing their instruments.
“It was definitely a culture shock, I guess,” she said. “I’m seeing the same faces I’ve always seen at schools — the teachers, my friends. The school itself feels a little different. Everything is a little off. Everything in my life has moved an inch to the left.”
Mitchell isn’t happy about not being able to play her flute with her band mates and not being able to organize band holiday parties and trips — part of her role as president — but she is pragmatic.
“It’s out of my control and I don’t want to waste my time focusing on it,” she said. “I have to focus on my future.”
Mitchell is matter-of-fact when she talks about the possibility of missing graduation and the other milestones of being a senior. It is tradition for Shasta High students to meet at the Sundial Bridge that spans the Sacramento River one morning at the beginning of the school year to watch the sun rise. At the end of the year they meet again to watch it set. Mitchell hasn’t heard any buzz about Senior Sunrise yet this school year.
“I don’t think it will happen this year,” she said.
The senior, who has a 3.9 grade-point average, had some good news recently. She learned that, despite Covid-19, she would be able to work at Shasta Community Health Center one day a week as part of a class that will help her to earn certification as a medical assistant. Mitchell, who wants to be a surgeon, is an officer in the school’s Health Occupations Students of America Club.
When Mitchell isn’t following arrows and standing on dots at Shasta High, she spends her three days at home in a combination of structured learning, following a bell schedule, and unstructured learning, in which she decides when to complete assignments. Mitchell prefers unstructured learning because she can knock out her assignments by noon and have the rest of the day to herself.
But Mitchell likes going to school and participating in band more than anything else.
“I hope there will be an opportunity for the band to come together and play together sometime, but I think it is unlikely with the state of things in the world. I don’t want to be hopeful, I would get disappointed.”
